


Meteor Shower

by SoYoureClairevoyant



Series: World Travelers [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst and Feels, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Comfort/Angst, Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoYoureClairevoyant/pseuds/SoYoureClairevoyant
Summary: Yuuri has a bust day that leaves him drained and vulnerable to his anxiety. Victor tries to help in the only ways Yuuri will let him.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: World Travelers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913566
Comments: 5
Kudos: 87





	Meteor Shower

It was a gray day raining in St. Petersburg, the kind of day that threatened rain that may or may not come down in sheets and soak through even the thickest coats. What few people walked there were on the sidewalks glanced up at the sky every so often as if begging the clouds to hold off just a little longer, until they got where they needed to go. There was a chill in the apartment, despite the fact that Victor had a top-of-the-line heating system. He wasn’t getting any younger, and one too many jumps and falls on the ice had left his knees sensitive to every dip in temperature. 

Victor was already home, having had a light practice day. He was stretched out on the sofa, a book in his lap and a cup of tea on the coffee table next to him. Makkachin had curled up on her bed in front of the heating vent earlier that afternoon, watching her master and waiting for him to get up to clip on her leash for her evening walk. Victor and Yuuri always tried to walk Makkchin together despite long practice days. It was one the rituals that had come out of living together and having opposite schedules as competitors.

Yuuri, on the other hand, had spent his entire day training. He had left the apartment early in the morning for a run and a gym session, then he was off to the ballet studio for a brutal ballet practice with Lilia, stretching and jumping and perfecting his posture for his new program. As tempting as it was to bail on his private rink time after all of that, Yuuri couldn’t forgive himself if he gave it up, not after all the work he put in to prove he was worthy of it.

He did compulsory figures and step sequences and spins until his ears rang and his clothes stuck to him with sweat. What was wrong with him today? His spins weren’t nearly tight enough and his step sequences were choppy. They had been near perfect yesterday, what happened in the last sixteen hours? 

Yuuri looked at the clock and saw his ice time was nearly over. Not even close to satisfied, he stepped off the ice and clipped on his hard guards, flopping onto the benches to rip at the laces on his skates. Were the lights always this bright at the rink? And why did his clothes suddenly feel like sandpaper on his skin? Now wasn’t the time to wonder. Yuuri still had to walk home, where Victor was waiting. If he’s as cheery as he always is, Yuuri thought as he zipped his jacket, I’m going to throw something.

~+~

Sure, enough, Yuuri unlocked the door to their apartment and was greeted by a sight that would normally make him swoon: Victor’s heart-shaped smile, the one he saved just for Yuuri. Yuuri could only offer a greeting in a dejected and strained voice.

“Tadaima.”

“Okaeri, my love. How was the studio today?”

Yuuri shut the door firmly behind him and made quick work of taking off his jacket and shoes.

“It sucked, thanks for asking.” 

Victor’s face fell only the slightest at that, but he saw the exhaustion in his fiance as Yuuri stripped off his jacket and toed off his sneakers. He remained where he was on the sofa, knowing that Yuuri did not want or need to be crowded right now. Instead, the Russian put down his book and offered a hand instead, which Yuuri only glanced at before turning away towards the kitchen. Victor rested it on the back of the sofa and tried engaging again.

“I am sure it couldn’t have been that bad.”

Yuuri spoke to the fridge instead of Victor.

“You know Lilia is demanding at the best of times. Today, she was downright ruthless. I don’t know who did what to piss her off. Bet Yurio had something to do with it.” He closed the fridge decisively and opened the cupboard instead. “I had private ice time, too, and I feel like I completely wasted it. That step sequence is still choppy and I can’t focus enough on my spins to keep them tight. I could barely walk off the rink, my feet are so sore, I nearly tripped out of the elevator for all the energy I have left, and I  _ really _ want some pasta.” 

Victor opened his mouth to say something, maybe reassurance or comfort, but Yuuri spun around and cut him off.  _ Is he psychic now _ , Victor thought?

“You how we talked the time to talk and the time to just let each other be?”   


Victor’s eyes stayed on Yuuri, but his mouth closed slowly. He nodded in understanding.

“I love you very much, but I am way oversensitized right now and the frustration and hunger are only making things worse. If I have to have a conversation, it’s going to end with one or both of us something we don’t mean or me throwing my medals at the wall. Mkay?”

Victor nodded again, concern in his eyes. He marked his place in his book and stood from the sofa. Yuuri stood watching while his fiance moved from the sofa to stand in front of him, leaving the former enough space to leave if he felt so compelled. Ice-blue eyes looked pointedly at Makkachin, still looking forlornly at her masters, and then at the door, a question.

“You can just go without me,” Yuuri said quietly. “I think it’s gonna rain soon, and I know she’s been waiting.”

Victor looked down in thought and crossed his arms. It killed him to not be able to touch Yuuri, to hold his hands or cup his cheek or pull him into a kiss. It was for the best that he kept his hands to himself, however. Unwanted touching could set off a full-blown anxiety attack. But even the endearments he so often used on a day-to-day basis would only worsen the situation, the sound irritating and grating. Staying silent was the only option if he truly wanted to help. Yuuri saw how much restraint was going into the silent exchange. He tilted his head so he could look Victor in the eye.

“You didn’t do anything, Vitya. It was a bad day.”

The Russian sighed and tipped his head back up so Yuuri could stand up straight. Not able to stand there and do nothing, he leaned in, giving Yuuri the opportunity to stop him if it was too much. Hearing nor feeling any resistance, Victor barely pressed his lips to Yuuri’s cheek. It was a whisper of a kiss, but Yuuri felt the tenderness in the gesture. One of Victor’s love languages was physical touch. Keeping to himself like this when Yuuri was in distress spoke volumes about how much he respected Yuuri’s need for space. This kind of restraint said,  _ I understand. I will be here when you’re ready to talk.  _ Yuuri felt a single tear fall and quickly wiped it away before he could start sobbing.

“I’m gonna go shower.”

He left Victor in the kitchen.

Victor took a deep breath and waited until he heard the door to the bathroom shut and shower turn on. He went into the front pocket of Yuuri’s backpack, still on the floor by the front door, and pulled out the signature poodle-covered phone. On his way into their bedroom, he quietly picked up Yuuri’s sweaty, discarded clothes from the floor. It would only fuel the anxiety to leave them there. Victor could have sworn he heard a soft sob escape from the shower as he set them in the hamper, but refrained from following it. Instead, he plugged the phone in to charge on the nightstand and ventured into the walk-in closet. Yuuri’s softest pajamas and a pair of thick socks weren’t difficult to find in the dresser and soon lay at the foot of the bed along with a sweatshirt of Victor’s that he knew Yuuri loved to wear. Yuuri’s noise-cancelling headphones were already plugged in and charging where they lay with Yuuri’s laptop, so Victor made sure they were on the quietest setting before creeping out of the bedroom. 

Victor stopped in the kitchen next, making sure the plate he set aside for Yuuri earlier was clearly displayed in the fridge. He scribbled a note before slipping on his shoes and pulling on a jacket to face the chilly gray evening. Makkachin needed no command to follow her master to the front door. She was already sitting there, more than happy to sit nicely while her leash was clipped to her collar. Victor flipped the lights off and closed the apartment door quietly behind him, hoping some time alone in the quiet would help his fiance’s current state.

~+~

Yuuri came out of the shower feeling better but still physically exhausted and emotionally raw. He scrunched his hair dry and wrapped the towel around himself, thinking of how tasty a plate of any kind of pasta sounded. Did they have any noodles or sauce in the apartment? Didn’t matter. He could order from the restaurant around the corner if he had to. Maybe Victor wouldn’t be disappointed about the failure to comply with his diet plan if Yuuri got him something too. Did Victor already eat? He would have to check the fridge for any leftovers.

Yuuri was so distracted thinking of whether he could justify the carbs, he almost missed the sight waiting for him in the bedroom. The light was on in the walk-in closet, casting His coziest pajamas lay on the bed for him next his favorite sweatshirt of Victor’s. 

“What the…?” He asked the apartment.

That man was too good to him. Yuuri pulled the shirt on over his head, followed by boxers, pants and a pair of what he had declared were the world’s softest socks. Lastly, he pulled on Victor’s sweatshirt. The sleeves fell over his wrists and the collar was threadbare, but Yuuri loved this sweatshirt. The familiar smell of laundry detergent and Victor’s cologne wrapped around him like a warm hug. Yuuri felt his shoulders relax and his breathing even just the tiniest bit while he sat on the edge of the bed with his arms wrapped around himself.

His stomach growled, breaking him out of his spell. He looked down at it in annoyance.

“Aggressive. Damn. Learn some manners.”

Yuuri braced himself for the brightness he knew flooded the rest of the apartment. Victor was the human incarnation of light itself, and he loved being surrounded by shiny, sparkly things. He even referred to Yuuri as  _ zolotse _ , my gold, and  _ solnyshko _ , sunshine. Yuuri padded trepidatiously out of the bedroom only to find the rest of the apartment in the same soft glow as the bedroom. The only light came from the bulbs built in under the cabinets, warm and easy on the eyes. The skater reached for the fridge but stopped to pull a note from the door.

_ Darling- _

_ There’s dinner for you in the fridge if you want it. Makka and I will be back in an hour. Let me know when you’re ready for the world again. I love you very much. _

_ -Victor _

Sure enough, when Yuuri opened the fridge, a plate he hadn’t noticed before was sitting right in the middle. He lifted it out and uncovered it, on the brink of tears. Victor had made a stroganoff for dinner earlier, beautifully plating a generous serving for Yuuri. He heated it up and ate standing at the counter, letting a moan out at the first warm bite. It was finished quickly, and Yuuri felt warm and full as he left his plate in the sink. God, he loved Victor’s stroganoff.

Only half an hour had passed since Victor left with Makka, so Yuuri went back into the bedroom to stretch out on the bed and wait for their return. The thread count on the sheets was so ridiculously high that they wouldn’t feel too bad on Yuuri’s skin, and his pajamas covered most of him anyway. Yuuri grabbed his headphones from their charger before crawling into bed under the thick duvet. The weight of it was grounding, Yuuri though as he slipped the headphones over his ears.  _ Crap _ , he thought,  _ my phone is still in my backpack _ . 

Just as he moved to get out from under the covers, he heard the chime from his headphones connecting to the phone. He looked over to see it was already plugged in, had been for a while by the looks of the battery. Yuuri shook his head in disbelief. The lights, the silence, the food and now his phone. Victor was taking care of him the only way Yuuri would let him: without Yuuri’s permission. The younger man lay back in bed, searching in his phone for a particular album. Within seconds, the familiar strings and oboe of Swan Lake surrounded him, and Yuuri started to cry.

~+~

Victor made it back with Makka just in time for the heavens to open up and let loose the rain he had been waiting for all day. He opened the door to the apartment as quietly as he had left it and unclipped the best girl’s leash, hanging it by the door with his jacket and shoes. At a glance, Victor saw that Yuuri had made it out to the kitchen and found the note and the stroganoff. He smiled at the dishes in the sink but made no move to wash them. Yuuri was the priority, and disturbing the silence would only stress him both out. Victor opted to text from his current spot in the doorway. 

_ We’re home. Are you feeling any better? _

_ A little. _

Okay, so the quiet and the food had helped. Good.

_ Would you rather I stay out here a bit longer? _

Victor tensed as he waited for a reply. The ellipses in the chat window started and stopped three times before a message came through.

_ Could you please come in here? _

Victor let out the breath he was holding and tread towards the bedroom. It was still dark here, the closet throwing a beam of light on the foot of the bed and Yuuri’s shapeless lower half. The covers ended at his hips, Victor saw, but his chest was free, arms bent so that his palms could rest over his eyes. The only way Victor knew Yuuri wouldn’t hear him was by the speck of blue light coming from his headphones. He stilled in the doorway, watching Yuuri for any cues as to how to proceed.

Yuuri stirred, his hands turning up in a mock salute to look at Victor who was waiting patiently in the doorway for Yuuri to set the tone of their reunion. Yuuri patted the empty space in the bed next to him, and Victor willingly went to it, the mattress sinking under him. He lay down and settled the covers over them both so as to keep Yuuri as warm and comfortable as possible. It seemed Yuuri didn’t want any space between them, however. He waved his hand to get his fiance’s attention and patted his chest. Victor shuffled closed, hoping he was reading the gestures correctly, and lay down with his head on Yuuri’s chest where he had indicated.

No, no, that wasn’t what he wanted. That wasn’t what he meant. Yuuri pressed his palms into his eyes and willed his tears to stay there. It was a losing battle. The emotions of the day had finally caught up to him and tears made their way under his palms and down his face, right into Victor’s hair. 

Victor touched the damp spot in his silver locks and then propped himself on his elbow to better see Yuuri. Tearfull brown eyes looked back at him. They swam with frustration and hurt, so much so that Yuuri’s own body had deemed it too much and needed to purge it. Victor’s heart ached just watching it. He couldn’t imagine how close Yuuri was to breaking.  _ What can I do?  _ He asked with his eyes. Wasn’t it something like 90% of all communication is non-verbal? He had asked that question out loud many times before, but he hoped this time, their connection was attuned to a silent conversation.

Yuuri looked up at the ceiling as if in thought before he patted his chest again with one hand and pressed on Victor’s hip with the other. Victor moved as close as he could, until his and Yuuri’s bodies were perfectly aligned hip-to-hip, but it wasn’t enough. Yuuri’s frustration was palpable and he pressed his palms into his eyes harder while holding back a sob. He didn’t have the words to say what he needed out loud. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he patted his chest once more in desperation.

Was Yuuri serious? Victor took in Yuuri’s distress and then his own muscled physique. He had three inches and twenty pounds of muscle on Yuuri easily, but if he was reading the signals right, Yuuri wanted to feel it all. The Russian reached over to put his right hand next to Yuuri’s head and moved his right leg in between both of Yuuri’s, his left arm and leg following suit. He lifted himself into a pseudo-plank and hovered there for a moment while Yuuri stared back at him, hope behind the tears in his eyes. Victor lowered himself, letting his full weight settle on Yuuri gradually. It was far from sexual, but incredibly intimate. In this position, Victor could feel every sob that Yuuri so wanted to keep in, and Yuuri could feel every muscle in Victor’s relaxing into the bed.

Something in Yuuri broke at that moment. He ripped off his headphones. Swan Lake was too much and not enough to stave the emotions that hit him like a wall. He wrapped his arms tightly around Victor’s shoulders and his legs loosely around his thighs. Yuuri clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder, words unnecessary. Victor wormed his arms under Yuuri, finally holding him close. He was too late to stop the hurt, but he could be there for his Yuuri. He would never stop being there for his Yuuri.

Victor didn’t know how long they lay there, Swan Lake playing softly in the background as Yuuri’s sobbing quieted into hiccupping. Victor took deep, even breaths to encourage the same out of the man under him. Yuuri’s breathing slowed to match Victor’s, and eventually it slowed enough that Victor pulled back just a few inches to see Yuuri’s face. His eyes were closed and the tear-streaked skin on his cheeks was blotchy red, nothing like the endearingly cute pink blushes that typically graced it. Victor cursed internally. How could the world punish someone so lovely, not to mention hardworking and genuinely kind? 

Yuuri opened his eyes. They were red but dry. Yuuri took a breath so deep, Victor could feel it in his core. He waited for Yuuri to break the silence that surrounded them.

“It was a really bad day.”

Victor nodded but kept his mouth shut, waiting for Yuuri’s cue. A moment later, Yuuri’s grip on his shoulders loosened and Victor pushed himself up and back to look Yuuri in the face completely. Yuuri slid a hand into his silver hair, pulling him in to press their foreheads together. Oh, the forehead touch, one of Victor’s favorites. The two of them shared a few breaths before with their eyes closed before Yuuri spoke again.

“Thank you. For taking care of me this evening.”

It was all the sign Victor needed. He opened his eyes to a small smile, a heartbreakingly adorable smile. He just had to kiss it.

“I’m just glad I could help, zolotse.” Victor rolled off of Yuuri onto his side of the bed, falling onto his back and pulling Yuuri close. “I think a light practice is in order for tomorrow.”

“I don’t want a light practice,” Yuuri argued from Victor’s chest.

“You’ll be exhausted tomorrow morning. It’ll be a light practice. If you’re feeling better, I can call Lilia about some free time for us in the studio.”

“...Fine.”

They lay in silence for so long, Victor thought Yuuri had fallen asleep. However, Yuuri suddenly tilted his head to press a kiss to his fiance’s jaw.

“Vitya?”

“Yes, zolotse?”

“That stroganoff was really good.”

Victor had to laugh and give Yuuri a squeeze. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Thank you.”

Yuuri settled into Victor’s side and sighed contentedly. “No. Thank you.”

And Victor knew he wasn’t just talking about the stroganoff.

~+~

**Author's Note:**

> So, I guess, Victor is a human weighted blanket? 
> 
> I've been feeling pretty lonely lately and it's bleeding into my work, so please have patience and be kind. This story is based on me actually pulling other people into my lap as a way to ground myself during stressful and anxious time.
> 
> Title is from "Meteor Shower" by Owl City.
> 
> This is not beta'd, so please let me know if there are any continuity errors or grammatical errors.


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